


The Nightmare Before Christmas

by mylittlemindpalace



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Christmas, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, but only a little bit of angst I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 21:25:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylittlemindpalace/pseuds/mylittlemindpalace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, James didn't react. He just pulled at his cigarette one last time and, after exhaling the smoke, dropped it onto the pavement bellow. Then he turned his head to look at Q and what Q saw made his heart clench. James wasn't angry or even frustrated. He looked <i>defeated</i>. It was unacceptable. James Bond wasn't defeated, ever, not even by Q.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nightmare Before Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepriceswepaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepriceswepaid/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, lovely <3  
> I wish I'd had more time to edit and tweak things here or there and also to make it longer but this will have to do. I hope you like it :*
> 
> Credits for the brillian title idea go to [Meow](http://imjohnlocked.tumblr.com/), thank you so much!

James looked up from his laptop where he was typing his after action reports when he heard someone enter the eight digit security code required to enter the flat. He tensed a bit but relaxed when he heard Q call his name. "James?"

James got up, wincing when the movement irritated a burn on the side of his thigh, and went to greet him.

"Hello, Quartermaster," he said almost mockingly and pulled him into his arms. He could almost feel Q's exhaustion when he relaxed against his chest and kissed the top of his head. "Long day?"

Q nodded and pulled away slightly so he could kiss him on the lips.

They had been together for almost eight months but James still wasn't used to the feeling of Q's lips against his own, his skinny but muscular frame in his arms, and least of all, the way Q looked at him sometimes, like he was the only thing that mattered in the world.

"I missed you," Q murmured when they broke apart. "You were gone for a long time."

It was true. Fifteen hours ago, James had returned from a mission that originally wasn't supposed to last more than two weeks but ended up keeping him in Argentina for almost forty-two days. It wasn't an unusually long mission but it was the longest they'd been apart since they had gotten involved.

"Why aren't you in bed?" Q asked softly.

James had a habit of sleeping like the dead for a minimum of fifteen hours when he got home after a mission.

"Couldn't sleep," James said, keeping his voice carefully neutral. He felt Q tense in his arms and pulled him in again. "It's alright," he muttered into Q's hair. "They're just dreams."

"Not really," Q murmured. "I wish there was something I could do."

"You _are_ doing something just by being here, Q. We've been through this."

Q just huffed in response.

James had always thought that sleeping with another person would make it worse, but when Q was lying next to him he felt so much... calmer. He still had nightmares, but when he woke up in the middle of the night, heart racing and breathing heavily, all he had to do was pull Q against his chest and feel their heartbeats fall in sync to calm him down.

"You need to eat," James decided.

Q yawned. "Too tired."

James snorted and reached for his phone to order take-out. "The usual?"

Q rolled his eyes affectionately. "I'll take a quick shower until it gets here, okay?" He leaned up and pressed a soft kiss on James' cheek.

James knew he was only yielding so he wouldn't worry as much but he didn't care. Anything that got the ridiculous genius to eat something he accepted gladly. He gently pushed him into the direction of the bathroom. "Go."

While the water was running James set the table and swallowed down some painkillers. It wasn't unusual for James to be the one to take care of Q after a mission, mostly because James could use any excuse to distract himself from his memories but also because even after 'boring' missions he needed something to keep him busy, otherwise the simple feeling of uselessness would drive him mad.

When Q re-emerged from the bathroom he looked slightly more alive and his hair was still glistening with water. He smiled at James gratefully and sat down in front of one of the boxes that had arrived a couple of minutes before.

James sat down as well, watching Q eat with concern. By the time he had finished, Q had only eaten half of his food, but James hadn't really expected anything more.

When they were done they quickly got rid of the boxes and Q wordlessly pulled him into the bedroom.

James watched him silently as he began to undress both of them and reached out to run his hand through Q's wet curls. The younger man looked up and smiled tiredly. "Think you'll be able to sleep?"

James shrugged. "Maybe with you here," he said softly and finished undressing them before pulling Q into the bathroom for their evening routine.

When they slid under the covers together James felt himself relax as Q wrapped one arm around him and rested his head on his shoulder.

Something occurred to him then and he kissed the top of his lover's head. "Think you'll get Christmas off?" He felt Q tense slightly in his arms, assuming it was because he'd reminded him of how much he was going to have to work until then.

"I wouldn't know this early, you know that."

"I know. /I/ might not be here. I just thought it would be nice... our first Christmas _together_."

James shrugged and had Q looked, he would have seen a light blush covering the agent's cheeks.

"Mhm," Q said non-committing and James laughed. "Sleep," he told him fondly.

Q nodded and his breathing evened out in a matter of minutes, leaving James wide awake, looking up at the ceiling.

It was true, he really was looking forward to Christmas with Q and he'd only just realized that it was only five weeks away. People didn't expect it from him but he was, in fact, extremely fond of Christmas for certain reasons.

His mind started to wander, and he drifted off after a while and was even spared nightmares.

~

_Adrian practically jumped out of his bed when he woke up and realized it was Christmas morning. Before he ran out the door he remembered to put on the small blue dressing gown Mother insisted on him wearing. He never understood what difference it made if he wore a dressing gown over his pyjamas. Something about decency, his mother said. Adrian obliged because he didn't want her to be sad. She did that a lot, being sad. But Adrian prided himself with the fact that he was almost never the reason._

_He raced down the stairs taking two at a time. Mother didn't like that either but she wasn't around to see so it was alright. He was about to call for her when he heard loud voices from the kitchen drifting up to the second floor and skidded to a halt at the top of the last flight of stairs. The voices were his parents', he realized and the happy grin he'd worn was slowly replaced by something else. This wasn't right. His parents never fought on Christmas. Ever._

_When Adrian tiptoed down the rest of the stairs he saw his big brother sitting on the floor, black curls messy from sleeping and scribbling into his notebook. He'd always been good at ignoring other people but Adrian was thinking that maybe he was just pretending. Because he couldn't possibly ignore what was being said now._

_"But he's_ not normal _!"_

_"How can you even live with yourself saying this about your own son?!"_

_"I'm telling you he needs people who... who can deal with this sort of thing."_

_"Can you hear yourself?!"_

_A slap. Adrian crouched down beside his brother and pressed against his side, his heart hammering in his chest but not from excitement. There was no more shouting now but for some reason that made him even more uneasy._

_His brother just kept scribbling, even when their father emerged from the kitchen and started shouting at them for eavesdropping but Adrian felt himself shrinking into the wall as the words washed over him. He bit his tongue to keep from pointing out that it was hardly eavesdropping if you could hear his voice all the way up the stairwell. When he stopped he turned around without another word and marched out._

_That same evening, the servants started to pack his things._

~

It was 10am on the following day and standing at his work station, guiding 004 through the maze that was commonly known as the city of Venice and Q really, _really_ shouldn't have been thinking about Christmas.

The bad thing was it wasn't even in a good, I'm-so-looking-forward-to-spending-Christmas-with-my-boyfriend-for-the-first-time kind of way but in a how-the-fuck-am-I-going-to-tell-him-that-the-thought-of-celebrating-Christmas-makes-me-want-to-die way.

He flinched when 004 cursed into his ear and a gunshot echoed alarmingly close. He forced himself to concentrate.

Seven minutes later, 004 was safe but Q still didn't have a solution for his problem.

It wasn't that the thought of celebrating with James was so... horrible, but... Q had trouble associating Christmas with anything more than pretence rituals, abandonment and pain. That's what Christmas had always been like for him at Holmes Manor and while Q intellectually knew that it could be something beautiful, something magical, he'd practically been trained to flinch away from any attempt to make it special because it hadn't usually turned out to well.

The sensible thing would be to just explain it to James but something was holding him back. James had sounded so... hopeful. He hated the thought of destroying it for him the way it had been destroyed for Q. On the other hand, he knew that celebrating with James would ruin it as well, just because he was incapable of putting his negative feelings about it aside.

Q sighed and went to his office to do some paperwork but his thoughts kept straying. What was it that fascinated James about Christmas so much, anyway? He wasn't religious or even the type to get excited about holidays so why...? Q knew the most logical step was to ask him but he somehow dreaded the answer.

~

The decision was taken from him when three weeks later, James, Alec, Claudia and Q were out for drinks together. It was a rare occasion since Alec and James were almost never home at the same time and so the four of them took advantage of the opportunity all too happily. Alec and James had been friends since their time in the Navy and Claudia - or rather: R - and Q had become good friends over the last couple of months. They understood their respective relationship problems like no one else, seeing that they were both dating senior agents and apart from that, they could talk tech and coding for hours when their partners would not even stand to listen for five minutes when they got excited over some new shiny toy Q had somehow managed to squeeze into the budget plan.

"So, I heard someone is almost certainly home for Christmas?" Alec said grinning just as Q had begun to feel a pleasant buzz from his beer spread through his body. Now he tensed ever so slightly when a big grin spread over James' face.

"You didn't tell me," Q said, trying to keep his voice neutral.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," James said, glaring at Alec but there was no bite in his voice. "M is sending me on an intel mission to /Switzerland/ of all places," James said laughing. "Something would have to go very wrong for me to not make it home by Christmas. I'll be on leave for at least four days after that."

Q forced himself to smile but he knew it didn't reach his eyes. James didn't seem to notice though, as he happily chatted away with Claudia and Alec about their Christmas plans.

Q tuned out for a bit and by the time they noticed he was uncharacteristically quiet he just gave them a small smile and told them he was tired. They went home soon after that and Q went to bed almost immediately, dismissing his discomfort as a headache. He could feel James' worried eyes on his back as he retreated into the bedroom but was fast asleep when James slipped under the covers with him.

~

_Adrian was eight years old now. He knew what that meant. It meant he had to start taking responsibilities. He knew because Father was gone and his oldest brother was gone and Sherlock was too distracted. That was okay though. He was really smart. He needed time to do experiments. Adrian understood that, he really did. One day, he was going to be just as smart as his brother, he swore himself, and then he would also want people to leave him alone when he was thinking important thoughts._

_Mycroft arrived from college on Christmas Eve, stiffly kissing their mother's cheek and nodding at his two younger brothers. Sherlock didn't seem to be bothered by the lack of affection and Adrian tried to mimic him and stood up a bit straighter._

_It only took a few hours until the fighting started. Mycroft left that same day._

_Adrian locked himself into his room and didn't react to his mother's pleas to come out. He didn't move from the bed until the next morning when Sherlock knocked and asked him to open so he could perform an experiment on him. Adrian opened and let him in, watching as he sat on his bed and started pulling out vials and tissues and some other things that Adrian couldn't name._

_While Sherlock dabbed various different fluids on the skin of his arm with no visible results as far as Adrian could see, he looked at him thoughtfully._

_"Sherlock?"_

_"I'm busy."_

_"I know but... Sherlock, why do they always fight at Christmas? It's supposed to be a happy time."_

_Sherlock didn't so much as glance up at him. "You shouldn't care so much, little brother."_

_"Why not?"_

_Because it's a dangerous disadvantage."_

~

It was two days later when Q finally snapped. James walked into Q's office with an even huger grin than the one he'd worn in the bar and Q knew without asking what it was about.

"I have a little surprise for you," James said and pulled him into his arms to kiss him.

"And what's that?" Q asked and leaned against him tiredly.

"I talked to M. She's giving you Christmas off."

Q froze in James' arms and then slowly untangled himself from his embrace. He knew he was overreacting but the danger was already boiling inside of him.

"You had no right," he said quietly between grit teeth, looking down at his hands. He could feel James going rigid in front of him even without looking.

"I... I thought I was doing you a favour, Q." The honesty in his voice angered Q even more.

"Well, you weren't. You can't just go around asking favours for me and rearrange my schedule!"

James visibly recoiled. "I'm sorry, okay?! I should have asked you first but I honestly couldn't think of any reason why you'd object."

Q snorted. "Well, I do /object/." All the fire had gone out of his voice; what remained was pure frustration. He clenched his hands into fists so James wouldn't see them shake. In some peripheral part of his brain, he knew that he was being unfair. James had no idea what Christmas meant for Q.

"Please leave," Q said, his voice laced with disgust at himself for hurting James so much. He knew if he looked up he would see his eyes harden at his tone; James didn't know it wasn't directed at him.

He stepped away wordlessly and seconds later Q was alone in his office, fighting back tears. Why the fuck couldn't he get over himself and just _tell_ James what his problem was?! He'd understand. He always did. Q sat down at his desk and buried his face in his hands, wondering what to do.

~

_Sherlock, surprisingly, left without a fight. On Christmas Eve, he, Adrian, and their mother were having dinner and on Christmas morning he was gone, off to London, presumably. The bad thing was, Adrian knew why. It was his brother's way of trying to make it easier for him, leaving without making a fuss. How very wrong he was. Still, Adrian chose to appreciate the gesture and move on._

_He was alone now, with his mother in the huge, cold house. The Christmas decor dangled from the chandeliers and the walls but Adrian couldn't bring himself to get excited. He felt like someone had pulled the floor out from under his feet. But he was twelve now. He couldn't show any weakness._

_Both Mycroft and Sherlock came home for Easter and Mycroft gave him his very own computer. Out of bad conscience or real affection, Adrian did not know but later he would ask himself if Mycroft had known, all this time, what was to come._

~

Q's heart was pounding when he entered their flat that night and James didn't come out to greet him like he usually did when he was home. He peeled of his coat and shoes, and left his bag in the hallway before following the soft hum of the television into the living room. It was completely dark, save for the eerie flickering that made dark shadows flash across Q's vision. This was... bad. Whenever James was home, he left on as many lights as he possibly could, unconsciously eliminating every possibility for an enemy to hide.

Q approached the couch only to find it empty and frowned, already feeling adrenaline spiking his blood. Something was wrong. He was already mentally calculating how long it would take him to get to the concealed weapon hidden behind the bookshelf when he saw movement in the corner of his eye.

Through the closed glass doors that led out onto the terrace he saw a broad shape leaning against the railing. Q relaxed a bit.

James didn't move except to pull at the cigarette in his hand. The smoke curled around him only for a few seconds before the cold London air carried it off, leaving him standing motionlessly above the city. Q approached the door carefully, knowing that if he opened it too abruptly, he could end up with a highly trained assassin's hand around his throat. The door clicked softly before he slid it open and James tensed visibly but he didn't turn around. Only now did Q notice that he wasn't wearing a jacket, just sweatpants and a t-shirt.

He stepped closer and put his hand between James' shoulder blades, hoping in vain to feel him relax a little. "Come inside, you'll freeze to death," he murmured.

At first, James didn't react. He just pulled at his cigarette one last time and, after exhaling the smoke, dropped it onto the pavement bellow. Then he turned his head to look at Q and what Q saw made his heart clench. James wasn't angry or even frustrated. He looked _defeated_. It was unacceptable. James Bond wasn't defeated, ever, not even by Q.

He didn't say anything, just went inside and Q followed, not knowing where to start. James vanished into the kitchen and came back with a glass of scotch.

"I'm sorry," Q said quietly when he was about to pass him and caught the hem of his shirt between his fingers. "I'm sorry," he repeated, as if that somehow made it better. And of all the reactions, of all the things James could have replied, he chose "It's alright."

He gave Q that look again and then turned off the TV before walking into their bedroom without another word. Q dropped his hand and stood in the darkness for a few minutes. He heard James move about in the bedroom but he couldn't bring himself to join him yet. _Coward_ he chided himself and forced his legs to move. James was just sliding under the covers when Q came in. Q went straight into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get rid of his clothes and when he came back, James had already turned onto his side and his eyes were closed. Q suppressed a sigh, crawling under the covers as well. The sheets felt cold on his skin without James' arms around him, but he managed to fall asleep anyway.

~

Not unexpectedly, James had nightmares again and Q found himself wrapped up in his arms after all, waiting for James' rapid heartbeat to calm. He held him tightly, willing him to understand that he was here, that their fight wasn't important, not as important as _this_. He didn't have any illusions though. Things were far from alright between them but the fact that James still instinctively reached out to him in those moments gave him hope.

~

Their legs weren't tangled up like they usually were in the morning but they also didn't wake up on the outer edges of their sides of the bed, so that was something.

Q was already sitting up and about to get dressed for work when he felt a light touch on his wrist. "Wait."

Q froze for a few seconds before turning to look James in the eye. The look wasn't as bad as yesterday but it still made him cringe inwardly. "Yes, James?"

Q saw the hesitation in James' eyes but then his wrist was pulled towards the centre of the bed again and Q let himself be dragged down to lie face to face with James, barely touching.

"I think we need to talk," James said calmly with a carefully schooled expression.

Q just nodded and didn't object when James laced his fingers through his own.

"I'm sorry I upset you," James began and looked down at their joined hands. "I only wanted us to be able to spend a couple of days together without you having to work twelve hours a day." He paused. "I... I just wish I knew why that bothers you so much." James' voice sounded incredibly small. It broke Q's heart. He opened his mouth to say something but then the words came rushing out of James' mouth, tumbling over each other, so completely uncharacteristic for him: "Just if you don't plan on being with me anymore at Christmas, I'd rather you tell me now and save us both some time."

Q stared at him with wide eyes and his heart clenched painfully inside his chest. "Is that what you think?" he breathed and inched closer until their legs were touching.

James gave a non-committal shrug. "It's crossed my mind," he murmured but Q could hear that his voice was less strained than before, now that he'd seen Q's reaction to the theory.

Q shook his head and wrapped an arm around his waist. "I'm sorry I overreacted. And that I made you feel that way." James' arms slid around him as well and they stayed like that for a bit. Neither of them wanted to destroy the ceasefire they'd just created by delving into the topic again but at least it seemed like things were on the right track.

Q sighed and pulled away a bit so he could look at James. "I have to go to work, " he said regretfully and put a hand on his cheek. "But we'll talk tonight?" Q didn't want to but James was leaving for Switzerland tomorrow and he couldn't stand the thought of leaving things unresolved between them.

James nodded. "Please." Q could see that he was having the same thoughts and he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his mouth. "I love you," he said sincerely, suppressing a shudder at the thought of how long it had been since he'd last told James.

The agent visibly relaxed and gave him a weak smile. "I love you, too."

~

_Q was seventeen when Mycroft offered him an internship "in the government". Q refused at first, out of sheer defiance, but after a couple of weeks he packed his bags, kissed his mother goodbye and found himself in front of Mycroft's penthouse in London. His brother wore the knowing half-smile that both Sherlock and Adrian had always despised and let him in._

_It was almost too easy, really. The contract he signed stated that MI6 would pay for his college education as long as he committed to working for them for at least ten years after getting his graduate degree. Q had no illusions as to what that really meant. He strongly doubted they would let someone climb the career ladder in their halls for ten years and then let them retire just like that. Especially not if they wanted him badly enough to pay for his college education without ever having seen what he could do. He knew Mycroft must have pulled a lot of strings there but he wouldn't lie to MI6 about the extent of his abilities._

_Fourteen years later, there was an explosion, endless paperwork, and more sleepless nights than he could count. His security clearance went up by three grades. His designation was changed._

_He became MI6's youngest Quartermaster._

~

Q branch was an adequate distraction from things but he still caught himself staring off into space and going through possible scenarios of how that evening could end a couple of times. He noticed Claudia giving him a few concerned looks before she mercifully told him to go home an hour before he was supposed to.

When he unlocked the door a delicious smell washed over him and he couldn't help smiling when he recognized his favorite. He quickly slipped off his shoes and coat before walking into the kitchen and finding James at the stove.

James looked up when he heard him approach and smiled cautiously. "Claudia called," he said by way of explaining and gestured at the pots before him.

Q stepped closer until he could duck under James' arm and press to the agent's side. He felt his arm tighten around him and turned his head to kiss James' shoulder. "Thank you."

James just nodded and kept concentrating on the stove. Q extracted himself silently and turned to set the table but found that James already had. His lips twitched. "You really didn't leave me any work, did you?"

That earned him an amused snort. "Have you met me?"

Q grinned. "Touché."

"Just relax. It'll only be a few more minutes."

So Q sat down and slowly but surely felt himself calm down. In no time, James had put a steaming plate in front of him and was sitting down himself, smiling softly at Q. "Eat now, talk later. Alright?"

Q nodded and reached for James hand across the table to squeeze it.

While they ate Q almost completely forgot what he'd been so nervous about until James told him to leave the plates and pulled him into the living room.

"Talk to me," James said and pulled Q down with him on the couch. Q sighed and crossed his legs so he could sit opposite him. He reached for James' hands almost absently and laced their fingers together. The tanned, calloused skin suddenly seemed much more interesting to look at than talking but James didn't push. That was what decided it for Q in the end. He knew he had hurt James but for some reason he still wasn't pushing. That was reason enough for Q to tell him.

"I... I used to like Christmas a lot as a little kid. I'm talking five years old, maybe six. The servants always turned Holmes Manor into a sparkling, green-and-red pile of lights and candles and little Santa Clauses all over the place. A kid's paradise." He could feel James watching him but he couldn't bring himself to look up. "Christmas was the time when my father would make an effort not to snap at Mother or Sherlock. I was too young to get snapped at, I guess. And Mycroft was the golden boy of course. Or maybe that's just how I remember it. It's a little fuzzy." Q swallowed.

"My father left the Christmas before I turned eight. All I remember is walking down the stairs on Christmas morning in my pyjamas, hearing my parents fighting in the kitchen. Sherlock was thirteen at the time and sitting on the floor in the hallway, scribbling furiously into his notebook. I don't know if he was listening; knowing him he could have been thinking about bee breeding, for all I know. But it would have been a miracle if he hadn't heard what father said about him." Q shook his head sadly. "Sometimes I think I was the only one who even remotely understood him." He could see the scene playing in front of his inner eye. Quietly creeping down the stairs and pressing against his bigger brother's side, seeking comfort.

"Q?"

Q jumped and looked at James with wide eyes.

"You tuned out there for a bit. Everything alright?"

Q nodded. "Sorry. I haven't... talked about this in a long time. Or ever, really."

James nodded and squeezed his hands. "Take your time."

Q nodded once more and continued.

"Mycroft left for college the next fall. When he came home for Christmas that year, he and mother had a huge fight. I was too young to fully comprehend it all at the time, but the words 'irresponsible' and 'abandon' were used." Q shrugged. "It only went downhill from there. The people I cared about were either not there or if they were, Christmas was turned into a farce. My mother wanted us to be the happy family she had always wanted but we never really were. Sherlock left a couple of years later." That had hurt the most. Because he knew his brother cared about him, but he also knew that staying home had become unbearable for Sherlock.

Q shivered. "Mycroft set me up with MI6 when I was seventeen. It was a deal I couldn't refuse. They'd pay for college if I contracted myself to working for them for at least ten years." He shrugged. "You know the rest I think."

Q was staring down at his pale hands. "You couldn't have known. I'm sorry."

James was quiet for a few more seconds before he extracted one of his hands from Q's and gently pushed his chin up. His eyes were blue and sincere and understanding and it broke Q's heart in the best possible way.

"I'm sorry too," James said finally and shook his head before Q could object. "You're right, I couldn't have known. But I could have asked." His hand slid into Q's dark curls and he pulled him close, brushing his mouth over his. Q felt all the tension seep out of him and he leaned against his forehead.

"I was just... surprised," Q said then. "You're not usually sentimental about holidays."

James pulled away slightly. "I know. Christmas is... special somehow."

He leaned back so he was lying on the couch and pulled Q down to sprawl over his chest. Q complied all too willingly, wrapping one arm around James' torso.

"When I was kid, before my parents died, Christmas was my favourite time of the year. My dad would take me into the forest a few days before and I got to pick a tree. Then we'd all decorate it together and spend hours in front of the fire. My dad would teach me card tricks and annoy me by not telling me how they worked. We would read or talk or just enjoy the warmth while we watched the snowflakes tumbling down through the windows."

Q felt James' shoulders move with a shrug. "It wasn't a huge deal or anything. On Christmas Eve there'd be turkey and Christmas pudding and later presents. Nothing extraordinary. But those are the happiest and clearest memories I have of them."

Q stayed quiet for a bit, staring into nothing. "I didn't know," he said quietly, more to himself then James. He felt the arms around him tighten. "I know. It's not a big deal really. Just a silly habit I guess."

Q craned his head to look up at him. "Not silly," he said and pecked the underside of James' jaw. "Not silly at all."

~

James left for Switzerland the next morning. Q was glad they'd talked but something didn't feel right to him. They hadn't talked about the "holiday" James had secured for the both of them and Q didn't know what to expect from that now. He figured they could still talk about it once James got back but it did nag at him a little.

James actually managed to stay out of trouble for the first ten days of the mission or so. Q felt like he was doing it for his benefit so he wasn't going to complain. But then, on the twentieth, he somehow got himself into a gunfight, which Q had to admit had not been his fault at all but it did push his return back to the twenty-fourth instead of the twenty-second.

It was on the twenty-third when something clicked and he almost smacked his head against his office wall because he felt so... well, stupid.

He did a little research and noted down some addresses before heading down to the basement to get some supplies. He was not going to sleep that night, he already knew.

After a moment of hesitation he texted Claudia. Because really, how the hell did you even decorate a Christmas tree?!

~

James was exhausted when he got off the plane at Heathrow. At least one of his ribs was cracked, his thigh ached with the shallow bullet wound he'd caught four days earlier, and he was covered in bruises. He knew he'd got off lightly but the fact that this time he'd actually _tried_ to stay out of trouble with the same result as usual annoyed him to no end. He had no idea what day it was, he was tired, he was hurting and all he wanted was curl up in bed with Q and sleep for at least fifteen hours.

He got into a cab and told the driver the address before leaning back and texting Q that he was on his way. He stared out of the window and watched the lights flash by against the dark sky without really focusing on them.

He was so lost in thought that the cabbie had to tell him they had arrived twice before he finally handed him the cash and got out of the car. He grimaced when the cold seeped into his bones as he rang the doorbell and waited for Q to let him in. A few seconds later the buzzer sounded.

James took the lift up to their apartment, punched in the code, and the door swung open, letting warm air escape from the flat out into the hallway. James entered quickly and closed the door before he realized something was off. It smelled... really good. Like... like turkey?

"Q?" James called and sniffed the air again while taking off his shoes.

"Give me a second!" came the reply from the general area of the kitchen and Q emerged a bit later, grinning up at James.

"Did you cook?" James asked, confused and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him close.

Q gave a nervous laugh and leaned up to kiss him. "Uhm. Sort of. Are you hurt?"

James snorted. "Nothing beyond the usual. They fixed me up there." Q still looked concerned but James waved it off. "What's going on here, Q?" he asked, a small smile on his lips.

Q grinned and his fingers twitched nervously. "Come on, I'll show you." He grabbed James' hand and led him into the living room and James almost stopped dead in his tracks.

There was a tree. There was a fire. There were even _stockings_. And his nose told him there was turkey.

"Q...", he started but he had no idea what to say.

Q bit his lips. "Is it too much? We can put the fire out again if you like. And we don't have to-" Q never got to finish his sentence because James, ignoring his ribs' protests, had already pinned him to the wall and was kissing him deeply, trying to convey everything he felt that he couldn't put into words.

"It's perfect," James said when he finally pulled away. "I... Q you didn't have to-"

"Yes, I did," Q said firmly. "And anyway, I wanted to."

James pulled him against his chest and buried his nose in Q's neck, breathing him in. "Thank you," he mouthed against his skin and he felt Q relax in his arms.

They pulled apart after a while and James grinned down at him. "Did you _really_ cook?"

Q laughed. "I did. With a lot of help."

James chuckled. "Claudia?"

Q shook his head. "Alec actually. Claudia, as it turns out, is rubbish at cooking."

James grinned. "I'm glad Alec apparently isn't. Because I'm starving."

"It'll be another half hour or so," Q said checking his watch. "But we can screw tradition and you can open your present now?"

James snorted. "I thought this was my present?"

"Well there's another one."

James shook his head in wonder. "For how long have you been planning this?"

"About thirty hours?"

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Because you know me."

"I do."

Q grinned and pulled him towards the fireplace. That's when James realized. "Why have we never used that before?"

"Because we have central heating and with how little you're home I doubt you ever even noticed that it existed."

James grinned and sat on the carpet. "I'm waiting."

Q rolled his eyes. "Impatient, are we?"

"Very."

Q chuckled and reached into one of the stockings to pull out a small, long box and sat down opposite him. "Merry Christmas, James."

James smiled and took the box from him. "Merry Christmas."

He started to carefully unwrap it and he could feel that Q was growing impatient. Once he'd gotten rid of the paper he turned the little black box over before cracking open the lid. His brows furrowed.

"You're giving me a - _oh!_ " A huge grin spread across his face as he looked up at Q. 

" _How_?" was all he asked.

"So you like it?" Q asked, sounding unsure.

"Do I..? Would you please just tell me how it works!?" James knew he must have looked like an overexcited little boy but he couldn't bring himself to care. And anyway, the light in Q's eyes was worth the loss of a little bit of his macho image.

Q took the pen from him and pointed to a small silver ring towards the back end that would look like decoration to an unsuspecting observer. "Turn it until you can feel it click. Then turn it into the other direction until it clicks. And get out of there in twenty seconds."

James stared down at the pen with wide eyes as he took it back from Q and turned it in his hand. "I didn't think you remembered."

Q snorted. "I remember everything about that conversation."

James smiled. "Thank you. I love it."

"I'm glad."

James carefully put the pen back into the box and into the stocking before he stood, pulling Q with him. "I love you," he said, kissing his forehead and lacing their fingers together.

Q leaned against him and exhaled happily. "I love you, too."

James nipped at his earlobe. "Food?" he asked innocently.

Q laughed. "Prat."

James laughed. "Hey, you knew that when you started dating me."

"Touché."

Christmas, Q decided, wasn't that bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to my perfect last-minute beta readers [Carmen](http://my-shock-blanket.tumblr.com/), [Meow](http://imjohnlocked.tumblr.com/), and [Sunny](http://ruled-by-loki.tumblr.com/).


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